Bruises the Colours of a Rainbow
by kenepeach
Summary: What can one do when their best friend is kidnapped and found months later?  How can he help his friend recover from the traumatic experiences?
1. Chapter 1

_Riiing, riiing. _Cameron dashed down the stairs and snatched the phone up.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Hello, is the Robert Mitchell's household?" a deep voice asked.

Cameron cocked his head. Nobody called him Robert anymore, Cameron was never fond of the name, so he asked people to call him by his middle name.

"Yes, this is he speaking." Cameron answered.

"Hello, Mr. Mitchell. This is police officer Jacob Kyluk and I have a young boy here at the police office that says you are his temporary caregiver. A... Damian McGinty?"

Cameron gasped, and slid down the wall to the floor, clutching the phone to his ear like he would never let go. His best friend Damian had been declared missing from New York four months ago. The police found no clues to his whereabouts, and Cameron had almost given up praying for his discovery, and instead prayed that wherever Damian was, he was safe, that he wasn't in pain. _Almost _given up. Damian was still the last thing he prayed about at night, the most sincere and intense plea to God. _ Damian is alive! Thank you, God, thank you so much. _Cameron thought.

"Yes, I guess I am his Texan caregiver." Damian lived in New York for school, but his parents lived in Maine, when they weren't in another country. His parents were part of the armed forces, and quite often, Damian had no idea exactly where his parents were.

"Where- how?" Cameron stuttered. "Where was he? How did you find him? Is he okay?"

'"He was being held captive in a house just outside the city. The police had busted his captor for drugs, and found the poor boy in his attic. To be truthful, Mr. Mitchell, he is not in the best condition. I can say with almost absolute certainty that he was being physically abused." Officer Kyluk told Cameron gravely.

"Can I come and see him, sir?" Cameron asked, worriedly.

"Of course. We are at station five, on Julius Avenue. He's being examined by the doctors right now, but he will be in shape to see you in half an hour." Officer Kyluk told Cameron.

Cameron was already in his coat and boots. "I'll be right there, sir. Thank you."

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><p>Cameron burst through the doors of the police station fifteen minutes later.<p>

"I'm Robert Cameron Mitchell, I'm here to see Damian McGinty?"

The lady at the front desk nodded and brought a folder of papers out.

"He's not quite through with his examination, but filling out these papers should keep you busy until then. Can I see some ID, please?"

Cameron nodded blindly and showed the lady his drivers license and student ID card. He sat down on the blue bench and took up the pen in his hand. Numbly, he filled out his personal information, and everything he could about Damian. Putting the pen down, he rested his head in his palms and waited in agony for his chance to see his best friend again. It had been six months since the last time he saw him in person. Because they lived states apart, they only visited once or twice a year. The rest of the year, Skype and Facebook kept them in touch.

"Robert Mitchell?"

Cameron's head snapped up from his hands.

"You may see Mr. McGInty now." a man with a lab coat told Cameron. Cameron jumped up from the bench and hurried over to the door. Before he went in, the man rested his hand on Cameron's should gently. "Just be warned, Mr. Mitchell. Mr. McGinty is in a very fragile state right now, physically and emotionally." Cameron nodded impatiently and then pushed through the door. The sight that greeted him almost made Cameron fall to the ground in tears.

Damian was wearing a white robe, eyes close, laying down on the bed. He was hooked up to multiple IVs, and crimson-stained bandages criss-crossing his back and shoulders were peeking out of the robe. His arms and face were covered in old and new scars and bruises of all different colours, from dark purple to greenish yellow. Cameron gasped. Damian's face of joy was now the very picture of vulnerability, his charming confidence had been stripped away to reveal a pained, creature struggling for his life. This former beauty of a young man had been reduced to scarred skin and bones.

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><p>Damian heard the door open. A small gasp, followed by silence. In his half asleep, half dead state of consciousness, he barely registered the soft footsteps approaching his bed. But energy seemed to surge through his body, if only for a moment, when a hand reached out a held his own hand. Damian knew this hand from watching it play guitar, from its congratulatory pats on the back after a song sung in Glee Club. Damian mustered all his effort to open his eyes a crack. A pair of teary grey blue eyes met his gaze.<p>

"C...Cameron..." Damian moaned very quietly. Even Damian was surprised at the scratchy quality of his voice. "C..Camer...ron." he muttered again. Damian could feel Cameron's hand graze Damian's face, while the other hand kept hold of Damian's cold hand.

"Shhhhh." Cameron said softly.

Damian sighed at the sound of his best friend's voice - a sound Damian had thought he would never hear again.

"Damo. You're back. You're here..." Cameron took Damian's scarred hands into his own.

"You.. you know, I prayed for you every night. Even though you don't see God. Because I hoped, I trusted that He was with you nonetheless. But to see you like this, to think of the strength it took for you to carry on... I think that's strength of your own." Damian drank in all of Cameron's words, hanging onto every syllable.

"I thought about you all the time, Damian. I thought I might have the worst part of the deal, not knowing whether you were alive or dead or safe or in pain, whether you left voluntarily or against your will. But I see you now, and I know I had the better part of the deal. I wish you didn't have to go through what you did. I would do anything to be in your place right now, to take your pain, Damian." Cameron's tears ran slowly down his face and onto Damian's patched skin.

Damian tried to respond. _You don't want to be here, Cam. To be in this pain, to be beaten everyday, and wonder how your friends and family members are getting along, hoping they are okay. _Damian thought weakly.

_Knowing that you are causing them worry, because you disappeared without a trace. Thinking and knowing that you may never, _ever _see them again. Thinking about how you never said good bye, you didn't cherish that last moment with your sister, that last hug from your mom, the last smile from your best friend. Knowing that only sheer luck will get you out of the hell you live in, the hell that you are locked in, the hell with no way out. You don't want to be in my place, Cam. You don't. _Damian wished he could tell Cameron this, but he could barely open his eyes.

Cameron paused.

"Come to me, all of you who are tired from carrying heavy loads and I will give you rest. Take my yoke and put it on you, and learn from me, because I am gentle and humble in spirit, and you will find rest. For the yoke I will give you is easy, and the load I will put on you is light." Cameron said softly.

"That may not mean much to you, but I hope you understand." Cameron let go of Damian's hand to reach up and take his glasses off, wiping tears out of his eyes.

Damian moaned at the cold air hitting his palm as Cameron removed his hand.

"Don't... don't le... lea...ve... Cam.." Damian pleaded. The effort it took to string those words together was tremendous, and nearly wiped Damian out. Cameron widened his eyes and quickly replaced his hand.

"I won't, Damo. I'll stay right here." Cameron promised. They stayed there for a long time, Damian's hand clutching Cameron's and he talked comfortingly to Damian, telling Damian he would make it through. And Damian believed him.

* * *

><p>AN: So, this is kind of intense, usually not what I write, if I write at all. I am Canadian, so I spell 'colour' 'neighbour' etc differently! (Btw, I also live in an igloo, hunt seal for supper, and go to school on my pet polar bear. haha jk!)<p>

CAMERON AND DAMIAN ARE STRAIGHT. In real life and the story as well. It sounds like they love each other, but it's only in a brotherly way. This is about two _really _close friends, and the support and comfort they give and recieve. Yay! Hahaha. At this point, I don't think any of the other Glee or Glee Project people will appear, but we will see. Anyway, this story has a bit of drama in between the fluffy chapters, I will be updating soonish, regardless of how many reviews I get, but reviews are TOTALLY APPRECIATED. I don't write much, and I want to get better :) But I hope you enjoyed reading!


	2. Chapter 2: Recovering

**Thank you to anyone who read this story, especially to people who reviewed it. You make me very happy! :) PS. ForeverLiveByMusic, I kind of elaborate on it in this chapter, but just in case, the answer to your question is Texas!**

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><p>CHAPTER TWO<p>

It was exactly four months, two weeks, two days and seven hours since Damian had gone missing.

Exactly one week, one day, two hours had passed since Damian had been found.

Exactly one week, one day had passed since Cameron had seen Damian again.

Exactly four days, five hours had passed since Damian smiled again.

Exactly two day, six hours had passed since Damian laughed again.

There were little steps. Those little steps to seeing the Damian, the one Cameron knew, return.

Four days ago. Damian's cousin, Lindsay came to see him. When she walked into the room, a real smile spread across his face. A real smile that light up in his blue eyes like beacons of joy and hope. That had been a good day.

Yesterday, Damian found the strength to laugh, something that he couldn't do for a long time. Cameron was delighted to hear his familiar chuckle fill the room. It felt like a little more of Damian had resurfaced, just as comforting and charming as it was four months ago. _Of course_, Cameron reflected, _he nearly passed out from the amount of energy it took for him to conjure the laugh up. _But Cameron knew that to both of them, it was worth it.

* * *

><p>Cameron had visited Damian every single day, for support and encouragement. Damian had some good days, when he seemed to be full of energy and optimism, and other days he was very tired and emotional. But the nurses told Cameron that his visits always cheered Damian up. Cameron would visit in the morning for half an hour, and after school for a couple hours. Sometimes, Damian would be awake, and Cameron would talk to him while Damian listened. Other times, Damian would be sleeping, and Cameron would do his homework and patiently watch Damian sleep.<p>

As creepy as it sounded, Cameron enjoyed watching Damian sleep- it made him feel tranquil and at ease. There was a peaceful, youthful look to his face, when Damian slept. The pain in his eyes and movements that lingered when Damian was awake were unapparent in his slumber.

Cameron slowly sat down on the ugly green couch. It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and Cameron had rushed to the hospital right after school to find that Damian was asleep. He was recovering from a special treatment he had received that morning. Cameron was delighted when the nurses told Cameron that Damian was recovering quicker than expected. Of course, it would still take a long time for him to regain his complete strength, physically at least, but it would come.

The monitors beeped and hummed. Damian lay on the bed, eyes closed and mouth open slightly. He looked the very image of an injured angel.

Cameron sighed. He had missed Damian so much. After they met at a singing convention a couple years back, the pair had become inseparable. Damian had even lived with Cameron for a couple months, back in the summer before Damian headed for university. When Cameron had been told Damian had gone missing, he was devastated. He tried to go and visit New York to find him, but everyone told him that it would be useless. So instead, he locked himself in his room for days, praying for Damian and internally yelling at himself, wondering whether he could have done anything to keep Damian safe. Of course, he knew that was unreasonable, for they lived states apart.

The police had filled Cameron in on the details of Damian's disappearance and discovery. His kidnapper, a man who sometimes went by the name of Fillips, had taken Damian - for reasons still unclear- from the park around 9:00 in the morning. Damian had been walking from his apartment to the bus stop, to catch his ride to the university, as he did every morning.

Fillips sneaked out of the state and drove all the way to Texas, where he owned a permanent residence. He kept Damian in the sound proof attic of his home as he ran a highly dangerous meth lab in his basement. This is how the police found Damian - they were busting Fillips for drug dealing and searched his house.

After thorough check up, the doctors rushed Damian to the hospital, where he is now, receiving treatment for burns, infections, dehydration, injury to the wrist and, most obviously, psychological treatment.

Cameron rested his forehead on his palm, and watched Damian quietly. Once or twice, Damian stirred, but otherwise, all was peaceful in the hospital room.

* * *

><p><em>The birds were chirping even though the sky was overcast and a light layer of fog drifted around the tall buildings of New York. Damian walked briskly down the path of the park, backpack carrying his texts and his notebook. Juggling a box of juice and his bus money, Damian searched for his phone. <em>

Shoot! _Damian thought as he pictured his phone sitting on the kitchen counter. _Now I have to get through the day without my agenda. _On a normal day, Damian would've turned back and retrieved the phone - he was only a block away from his home, after all- but he was late (and Damian was never late). But of course, this day was as far from normal as Damian could've imagined. _

_The events that followed would be forever imprinted in Damian's memory. He could still feel the rough hands grasping his wrists and covering his mouth. He could smell the breath of fast food on his neck as Damian struggled to get free. _

_"Kid. If you even try and escape, I _will_ kill you." a voice threatened. Suddenly, Damian could feel cold metal of a gun pressing into the small of his back. Damian froze. It felt like he was in a dream or a movie. _

Why did I sing when I could've been learning karate or something? _Damian cursed. _I'm nineteen! I'm in first year university! I'm not supposed to die now!

_"Alright. Listen closely. You are going to pick up that juice box there and put it in your pocket, and hand that money to me, quietly. If you even think about screaming or running away, I will not hesitate to shoot you." Damian's captor snarled. The hand on Damian's mouth released and Damian had no chose but to obey his orders, trembling in fear. He stuffed the apple juice in his jacket and handed the coins to the violent man. _

_"Now, you are going to walk to that green car over there, and you are going to get in the back seat. I'm going to follow behind you. If you cry or run for help, you are going to get it. Keep your head down!" Damian started walking stiffly to the car on the far side of the park, head down, mind racing. _

Oh, fuck. What the hell should I do? Can I run? WIll he really shoot me? Do I have a chance against this guy? Where are we going? Why me? Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. He's going to kill me and dump my body by the river. Crap. I'm going to die. I'm so gonna die, die, die, die. A very painful death. Oh, shit. This is terrifying! A man assaults me in the middle of the park and threatens to shoot me. This is not good. I'm going to get into this car and never be seen again. I'm so fucked. I'm not going to finish school. Is that really important, you idiot? You're being kidnapped! Oh, shit. Mum and Dad. I'm never going to see Mum and Dad again. I'm never going to see Ireland again. I'm never going to see Cameron again. Or Lindsay or Peter or Garret or Brittany or Nael. I'm never going to see them again. Ever.

_Damian's thoughts turned to the car in front of him. He slowly reached out and opened the door. A putrid smell fit his nostrils as he stiffly got into the car. The car door slammed, and he heard the door lock. He drank in the last glimpse of his home. He could see his balcony just peaking over the trees for a split second before a cloth went over his eyes and the car pulled away into the traffic. One last glimpse of a red sweater, one Damian's mother had knit for him, hung from the clothesline, flying in the foggy wind like a warning or a farewell. _

Mum... Dad. Cam... where are you? Help me. Help me!

* * *

><p>Damian awoke with a start, shaking and sweating slightly. The memory had been so vivid and sharp- it was like reliving the start of a nightmare all over again. Damian wanted to cry, but he couldn't. He wanted to go back to before the nightmare started, when nothing was painful or hurtful. When everything was beautiful.<p>

_Cry, goddamn it! _Damian yelled in his mind. But he couldn't. He felt like an injured shell trapped in a soundproof cage. He couldn't make a sound, he couldn't cry, he couldn't scream. Only hot air escaped from his lips.

"Cameron." he pleaded, "Cameron, help me."

Cameron jumped up from his resting position on the couch right away, immediately seeing that Damian was on the verge of... well, a breakdown of sorts. Damian grabbed his hand and turned his tortured blue eyes up at Cameron.

"Cam... make it stop! I can't... it's too hard. Please, Cameron. Make the memories stop. Please!" he begged desperately, fear lacing his painful pleas.

Cameron's heart broke at the sight of Damian so lost and broken. Cameron gathered his friend up in his arms and rubbed Damian's back as Damian shook in Cameron's embrace. Damian's quavering chest erratically gasped for air, his jaw clenched and eyes squeezed shut.

"Shhhh. It's alright, Damo. You're safe, I'm here for you." Cameron murmured, trying to soothe the younger boy, to no avail.

"No... no. I can't, Cameron. I can't." Damian moaned into Cameron's shoulder, "It's too much. It's too much..." He gasped, sucking in air in loud gulps. Cameron placed his right hand protectively on Damian's head as the shorter boy cowered in his arms.

"Why, Cameron? Why did this happen?" Damian howled, "WHY?"

Cameron simply shook his head as he responded in his calming voice, "I don't know, Damo. But I know you will get through this. You are strong and you are brave. You can, Damo."

Cameron held Damian on the bed for another hour as Damian trembled and screamed in his protective arms. Cameron had never been so frightened for Damian in his life. He was more frightened than he was when he learned that Damian was missing, or when Cameron saw Damian for the first time after he was found, bloddy and bruised. No, those experiences were terrifying, but not nearly as scary as this moment. It was the most frightening to see Damian held captive by his own horrible memories, unhinged and howling. Not being able to help his friend through his pain, just having to helplessly stand by and watch him being tortured by his own mind.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, thanks for reading this chapter! <strong>**It was surprisingly easy for me to write this chapter, I was expecting it to be more difficult to write the flashback :) ****I know the hospital probably would've intervened when Damian started screaming, but for the sake of the story, they didn't! The plot picks up after a chapter-ish, so please stay with me! I love all of you who review! Hugs and cookies!  
><strong>

**-Peach  
><strong>


	3. Chapter 3:  There Will Be A Day

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters. Anything that happens to them in the story is a total work of FICTION! I am not affiliated with Glee or The Glee Project, and I am not making money off of this story!**

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><p>CHAPTER THREE<p>

"Is he awake?" Cameron asked the nurse.

"Yes, he just woke up." The nurse told him as she pushed a cart out of the room. "Mr. McGinty really looks forward to you visits, dear. He's lucky to have a friend like you. You seem really close."

Cameron nodded. "He's my best friend." He made to leave, but the nurse stopped him gently.

"Listen, Mr. Mitchell. Damian had another 'moment' today, about an hour ago." she told Cameron. Cameron scratched the back of his hand carefully.

Damian had been having what the nurses called 'little moments' ever since he came back. Something someone would say or do would trigger a bad memory in Damian's mind, and he would sit on his bed, rigid and tense, fist clenched. His eyes would fill with a look of fear or anger or shock, depending on the memory. No matter what they said to him, Damian would stay like this for about ten seconds, until he suddenly rolls up into a ball and goes to sleep. When he woke up after a 'moment', Damian always seemed disoriented and frightened until someone said his name. Then he would snap out of the 'moment' like it never happened. Cameron had witnessed a handful of Damian's moments, and they were frightening.

"Wh... what was the trigger?" Cameron asked.

"It happened right after the nurse touched the back of his knee. We didn't see any scars or bruises there." she informed Cameron. "Also, we took the liberty of rescheduling his rehabilitation sessions to June. Just thought you should know."

Thanking the nurse, Cameron turned away. He made his way across the room and to the bed where Damian lay, right next to the window.

Damian opened his eyes at the sound of Cameron's boots hitting the floor. "Hey, Cam!" he said.

"Hey, Damo." Cameron said cheerfully. "How are you today?"

Damian opened his eyes and gave a small smile. "Better than yesterday." he responded, like usual. "'Cept my wrist hurts, 'specially when I do this." he bent his wrist back and grimaced.

Cameron winced, then looked worriedly at his friend. "Are you sure you should be doing that?"

Damian shrugged. "I don't know. " Damian admitted. "It doesn't feel like an abnormal pain. I'll ask, though, don't worry." he said.

Damian and Cameron fell silent. Cameron watching Damian looking at the city through the window.

"So, I guess the nurse told you about my 'moment' today, huh?" Damian broke the silence. Cameron looked at Damian in surprise.

"Well...uh..." Cameron stuttered.

"I know she did, because you always act slightly different afterwards. Like I might explode at any moment. You try to hide it, but I can tell." Damian explained.

"Well, yeah." Cameron admitted. He flicked his wrist and the sunlight glanced off the watch for a couple seconds, causing the silver clasp to gleam and shine. Damian froze, trying to rid the image from his mind. It wasn't working. Cameron noticed Damian suddenly freeze, but Cameron kept talking. "I just don't like bringing your 'moments' up right afterwards, because I know you'll need to talk about it sometime with doctors, and I don't want you to relive the memories too soon."

"Too late, Cam..." Damian muttered. He looked down at his hands, biting his lip. It kept replaying in his mind, the little flash of light reflecting off of Cameron's watch in the afternoon light.

_The all too familiar flash of silver. A small blade gleaming in the attic light. The guaranteed pain that was to be endured. _

_No, that was Cameron's watch. You are in the hospital, not the attic. _

Cameron tried to think of something to say, but he couldn't. This was such a delicate situation, such a delicate day. Damian wasn't crying, but he was trembling, eyes squeezed shut, hands flexing slightly. He looked pale, like he was going to pass out. Cameron gulped. He hated seeing Damian in this condition.

_The scars that knife had inflicted upon him... across his back and arms, his cheek and his hands. _

_No, Cameron's watch. Cameron's watch, on his wrist. Cameron never hurt you. His hands are always the ones that comfort you. _

Slowly, not knowing what else to do, Cameron reached out and rested his hand on the bed next to Damian. Damian suddenly reached for Cameron's hand and looked at him with such intensity Cameron almost looked away.

_See, Damian? It's Cameron. He isn't scary. _

_How do you know it's him, huh? How do you know _he _isn't hiding in him. That knife..._

_Damian. It's Cameron! I know it is! _

_How do you know? How do you know for sure? _

Cameron watched Damian with apprehension. Damian's face was contorted into a pained face, his eyes looking back and forth like he was watching some kind of tennis game in his mind.

"Sing for me, Cameron." Damian said, pleadingly, desperately.

Cameron nodded quickly. He sang the first song that came to mind- a song he sang at his church the day before.

_I try to hold on to this world with everything I have_

_But I feel the weight of what it brings, and the hurt that tries to grab_

_The many trials that seem to never end, His word declares this truth,_

_that we will enter in this rest with wonders anew_

Cameron sang softly, eyes closed and swaying slightly in his chair, his free hand. Damian clutched Cameron's right hand like lifeline and stared at Cameron as he let his voice sweep over him. Something about watching Cameron sing- something about the emotion and the sincerity, calmed Damian down.

_But I hold on to this hope and the promise that He brings_

_That there will be a place with no more suffering_

_There will be a day with no more tears, no more pain, and no more fears_

_There will be a day when the burdens of this place, will be no more, we'll see Jesus face to face_

_But until that day, we'll hold on to you always_

Damian leaned back onto the pillow and closed his eyes, still trembling slightly.

_I know the journey seems so long_

_You feel your walking on your own_

_But there has never been a step_

_Where you've walked out all alone_

Cameron placed his hand on top of Damian's, encasing the small, frail hand in his own larger, stronger hands. Damian shivered slightly as Cameron's warm hands came in contact with the coldness of his skin.

_Troubled soul don't lose your heart_

_Cause joy and peace he brings_

_And the beauty that's in store_

_Outweighs the hurt of life's sting_

Cameron's voice grew stronger, pulsing with power and emotion.

_I can't wait until that day where the very one I've lived for always will wipe away the sorrow that I've faced_

_To touch the scars that rescued me from a life of shame and misery this is why, this is why I sing…._

Cameron's voice wavered slightly, choking the unspilled tears back.

_There will be a day with no more tears, no more pain, and no more fears_

_There will be a day when the burdens of this place, will be no more, we'll see Jesus face to face_

_There will be a day, He'll wipe away the stains, He'll wipe away the tears, He'll wipe away the tears…..there will be a day. _

Cameron held the last note as he reached up and slowly wiped the tear from under his glasses. He could feel Damian still trembling very softly, but the pallor in his cheeks had faded away, and his eyes were closed gently rather than squeezed tight. Damian kept his eyes closed as a pleasant memory washed over him- when he first met Cameron.

* * *

><p><em>There was a knock at the door. <em>

_"Come in!" Damian called from where he sat on a bed, suitcase and backpack beside him. _

_The door opened and a lanky boy with glasses came in. He walked in awkwardly, trying to pull a suitcase and a shoulder bag through the door while keeping the heavy door open. Damian also spotted a guitar slung across his back. He jumped up from his bed and helped the boy get his stuff through the door. _

_"Thanks." the boy said after all bags were inside and the door had closed behind him. "I'm Cameron." _

_Damian was slightly confused, but nevertheless, said hello back. "But, um, I was told my roommate would be a Luke Ciel." _

_Cameron groaned. "Really? After all that work of bringing my stuff through the door!" He laughed good naturedly. "But you're... Damian... right?"_

_"Yep." _

_"Huh, I guess they must of messed something up on my forms. I'll go and talk to them about it." Damian felt a kind of pull in his stomach. Some kind of gut instinct that pleaded him for Cameron to stay. _

_"Well, the people in charge are probably really busy. Maybe you should just hang out here before you go back downstairs." Damian suggested. Cameron shrugged and sat down on the floor. _

_"Works with me. I don't mind resting for a moment. I mean, there are over eighty people at this convention. Over forty dormitories. It took me forever to find this one!" Cameron chuckled. The two boys sat in silence for a couple seconds. _

_"So...what kind of music do you like?" Damian asked. _

_"I listen to Coldplay and Sondre Lerche, John Mayer... Michael-"_

_"Michael Buble!" Damian's voice overlapped with Cameron's. "Me, too!" Damian exclaimed. Cameron and Damian nodded in appreciation. Suddenly, Damian felt the urge to hear what Cameron's voice sounded like. _

_"Sing for me!" Damian requested. Cameron laughed. _

_"Right now?" _

_"Why not?"_

_"Okay, then. Um, let's see... _

I'm not surprised, not everything lasts

I've broken my heart so many times, I stopped keeping track

Talk myself in, I talk myself out

I get all worked up, then I let myself down"

_Damian smiled, tapping his foot to Cameron's clear sound. Cameron gestured towards him, and Damian took the cue to sing the next lines. _

"I tried so very hard not to lose it

I came up with a million excuses

I thought, I thought of every possibility"

_Damian and Cameron sang the rest of the song together, their voices complimenting each others and blending together. They both threw in a little personality to the song. They even added little dance moves into the mix; Damian was surprised at how at ease he felt with Cameron- comfortable to dance in front of him ten minutes within meeting him! Damian danced clumsily but enthusiastically while Cameron danced awkwardly yet gracefully. _

_Cameron collapsed on the bed as the song ended. Damian lay down next to him, side by side. They talked for another hour before they got up from the bed, but Damian already knew that he had met a best friend. _

* * *

><p>"Damo?" Cameron said.<p>

"Yeah?" Damian murmured.

"Feeling better now?" Cameron asked softly.

Damian opened his eyes slowly and turned his head to look at Cameron. His bright blue eyes met Cameron's caring grey eyes for a couple seconds before he blinked and nodded. He had the best friend he could ever ask for.

"Yes. Thank you, Cam."

_I told you it really was Cam all along, didn't I, Damian? You're safe here. _

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Song that Cameron sings is <strong>There Will be a Day**, by **Jeremy Camp**. I love this song, even though I'm not really religious, this song still touches me :)**

**Cameron and Damian sang a little bit of **Haven't Met You Yet**, by **Michael Buble**. I chose this song for obvious reasons- have you listened to their version on Youtube? I die of happiness whenever I listen to it :D**

**So, I hope that Damian's weird inner-argument didn't scare you off! hahaha! But then I tossed a HAPPY flashback into the mix :) This was a weird chapter to write, I hope I did a good job!**

**Please follow and review! I love reviews, they make me happy!**

**-Peach**


	4. Chapter 4:  Maybe Tomorrow

**AN: So everyone, here is my latest chapter :) It is pretty dense, mostly Damian talking about how he's feeling. I hope I don't bore all of you, but I needed to share his feelings with you, and I thought that a therapy lesson may be the best way to do it! His thoughts are kind of all over the place right now, I hope you follow :P **

**Also, I don't know if any of you caught this, because nobody commented on it, but I implied that Damian is not religious in the first chapter. That was intentional- although Damian isn't religious in this story, he is in real life! Just so you all know. **

**Later on in this story, there is a dream inside a memory... pretty weird, huh? I'm sure you are all very smart and can figure it out! **

****DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters. Anything that happens to them in the story is a total work of FICTION! I am not affiliated with Glee or The Glee Project, and I am not making money off of this story!****

* * *

><p>Damian fiddled with the strings on his hospital gown as he sat in a wheelchair. An old man sat on a couch in front of him, notebook in hand. It was Damian's first therapy session, one of many to come in the next two years. Everyday for as long as he was in the hospital. He was not looking forward to this. Spilling all of his thoughts and fears to this doctor seemed like a stupid thing to do. But Lindsay told Damian again and again that he should be as open to his therapist as possible. Lindsay's mom- Damian's aunt- was a pyschologist for very young children, mostly preteens, so Damian figured Lindsay knew what she was talking about. So he had promised to try not to hesitate to tell Dr. Jake anything.<p>

His therapist, Dr. Jake started the session off with a seemingly simple question.

"How are you feeling today, Damian?"

_How am I feeling? No words to describe how I'm feeling._ Damian thought as he looked up out the window.

"I don't know..." he murmured. Dr. Jake nodded thoughtfully, tapping his pen on his chin.

"Just try and tell me what you're feeling at this very moment, Damian." he requested. Damian took a deep breath.

"I feel... nothing." Damian said. He gave frustrated sigh, feeling words well up in his throat. "I feel like all the good times have been sucked away, and all the bad times have been numbed down to a fuzzy smudge. I feel like an empty, broken shell. Everyone, you, and especially Cameron, wants to understand. But I can't share with them, I literally can't. I have no words, no emotion. Nothing at all."

"You never feel any emotion. That can be dangerous, Damian." Dr. Jake said gravely.

"Well, I don't feel emotion until I go to sleep, and then everything comes blasting back at me, all at once." Damian's hands were shaking slightly.

"I can't stand the pressure, the sudden emotion I feel after being so numb. It's too much... I can't do anything. I can't cry, I can only scream in terror. All I can do is _feel_. Feel the bad and the ugly. One part of me thinks it feels good, in a way, because I'd rather feel horrible than feel nothing at all. But the other part of me is begging for relief. But when the relief finally comes, I feel numb again. I can never win." Damian buried his head in his hands. Once he had started, it was hard to stop talking. It was liberating, being able to a stranger about his problems without worrying about how it would affect that person. Dr. Jake was nodding again.

"The on and off emotion is confusing me. Reliving memories has never been easy for me, but now it kind of makes me disoriented, mentally. I'm not sure what's reality and what's part of my imagination."

"When did this last happen, Damian?" Dr. Jake asked.

"Two days ago. I was... y'know... having another panic attack. Or at least on the verge of one. Something reminded me of.. the knife that _he_ always used. It confused me. I kept thinking that maybe _he_ was hiding... hiding inside Cameron. A voice in my head told me that that was impossible... that Cameron was Cameron, and Cam would _never_ hurt me. But the other voice in my head kept telling me that it wasn't Cameron, it was just a person that _looked_ like Cameron.

I couldn't tell what I was supposed to believe, what was truth and what was a lie. It made my head spin, and I really wanted to pass out, or scream, or cry, or jump out of bed, or just tell the voices to _shut up_. But I couldn't. And then Cameron reached out and held my hand, and I asked him to sing a song. I knew that if Cameron sang, I would know what was real and what wasn't. After he finished singing, I knew it was still him."

"How did you feel after he sang? Better?" Dr. Jake asked.

"Yeah. Much better. After he finished singing that song, I felt at peace- the voices stopped yelling, and I felt content, y'know? Protected. It brought a nice memory back..." Damian trailed off, sighing thoughtfully.

"Which one?" Dr. Jake prodded.

"The time we met- at a singing convention. We weren't supposed to meet each other, actually. It was a total mistake that brought Cameron to me. But in a way, it wasn't a mistake. It wasn't a mistake, because how could it be? Meeting Cameron brought me such good things. Support, encouragement. Like a big brother. I feel like...it was fate that brought Cameron to me. As Cameron would say, God had a plan. I met my best friend. I'd never had a best friend until then, but it- it felt good. It made me happy. For a couple minutes, at least."

Damian sunk into silence. Dr. Jake watched him carefully. The leaves on the trees outside the window rustled softly in the breeze.

"Who do you trust most, Damian?" Dr. Jake asked thoughtfully.

"Cameron." Damian said without hesitating.

"What about your parents?" Dr. Jake asked.

"Well, I trust them, too. But they're always away from home, even out of the country, and I usually didn't talk to them. It wasn't too bad, but sometimes I wanted a family member to talk to. Like a big brother or sister, or even a little sister or brother... I got lonely being the only child. But I always knew I could count on Cam when I couldn't reach my parents. If I was feeling down, he would cheer me up. I could ask him for advice, for feedback, for encouragment.

Like, a couple years ago, my girlfriend was pushing me for a sexual relationship, and I didn't want that. And she said things one day that really hit me hard. So I Skyped Cameron about it, and he talked me through it, and he made me see what I wanted to do - I broke up with her the next day. That sort of thing- I felt I could call him up at anytime when something was sucky.

And now, Cam visits me in the hospital every single day, willing to give up his time to be with me. He comforts me in a way no one else can. He's the only one I can _really_ talk to, he knows exactly what to say when I'm angry, he holds my hand when I need something to grab onto. He even strokes my hair when I need comforting. When Cam's around, I feel like I can pick up a tiny piece of emotion again. My parents don't do that for me, sadly enough. Maybe they could if they were around more, but they aren't."

"You said earlier that you feel confused about reality. Does Cameron know about this?"

"To an extent. He knows I have these panic attacks when something reminds me of the past, and he knows I kind of lose my sanity a little afterwards... he always tells me stories about his life, school and stuff, until I calm down a bit. But nobody- except you, I guess- knows about the voices. Cameron doesn't need to know that I'm so messed up that I hear voices arguing in my head. Cameron doesn't need to know I'm weak." Damian said, with a trace of bitterness.

Damian fiddled with the hem on his hospital gown, carefully picking at the little threads. Dr. Jake pushed his glasses up his nose and leaned back in his chair.

"Damian, you are not weak. You are much, much stronger than most of the patients I have. I mean, you are strong enough to leave your bed, for one, and also, you have enough strength to talk about how you feel, and you have enough strength to describe your panic attacks to me. Not many people can do that, especially during their very first therapy session. From what you have told me today, you aren't weak, but you feel... out of control, yet almost detatched." Dr. Jake said.

"Yeah." Damian said.

"Moderate emotion is non existent right now, it's always extreme." Dr. Jake suggested.

Damian nodded. "Yeah. I mean, it's either really mad or really sad or really tired or really happy or really thoughtful or really irritable or really frustrated."

Dr. Jake nodded. "You need to find a way to express yourself. Drawing, writing, talking to someone about your emotions. What do you like to do, Damian?"

Damian shrugged. "Sing, I guess. But I can't sing anymore. I can't sing physically, and I can't sing emotionally. I don't feel the song when I sing anymore. I only feel the song when Cameron sings. Or Lindsay, maybe, but she hasn't sung for me after I've come back.

"Well, Damian, I have an idea." Dr. Jake reached into the desk and pulled out a blue notebook. "Everyday, write down a couple words or lyrics in this. It can be one word describing how you feel, or a song that you think expresses what you feel. Even try writing your own songs. And maybe... you can have Cameron sing them for you. I mean, from what I've heard, Cameron makes up your entire support system." Dr. Jake said.

"Yes. He's my rock, Cam is. But I don't think I can do this."

"Damian, you have to try letting him into your world a little. Tell him how numb or terrified you feel sometimes. Tell him about what confuses you. I'm sure it will help, Damian, writing down words and lyrics and hearing them being sung. Just try it for a week."

Damian stayed quiet, tracing the spine of the notebook.

"Maybe..." he said softly. "Maybe." 

* * *

><p><em>Damian flinched as he heard the door close with a loud bang. He lay on the floor in the corner, shivering and whimpering, eyes closed and arms wrapped tightly around his body. Pain was shooting up his leg, and he could feel blood trickling down his thigh and pooling on the floor around him. <em>

_A thin stream of moonlight shone through the small window near the ceiling and dust sparkled in the tiny rays of light that streamed down, casting a deceptively gentle glow on the blood-stained floor. Damian opened his eyes slightly, and found himself mesmerized by the light like he had been so many times before. The light represented the Outdoors. The Past. The good that still existed out there, just past that window. The window that was too high and too small to escape through. No hope, no chance of ever breathing air on the other side of the window ever again. _

* * *

><p><em>Damian closed his eyes again, breathing lightly, fading out into half sleeping state. Still aware of the pain shooting through his right leg, but not really feeling it, because he wasn't in the attic anymore, trapped by the pain. Instead, he was floating in the sky, past the stars and the moon, back to New York or back to Ireland, where his friends and family greeted him with smiles. The pain in his leg was a minor now, numbed down to a small throbbing. His mum and dad, Nael, Lindsay, Cameron. Everyone. Damian could taste all of his favourite foods, and he could see all of his favourite faces. He could see his dad dancing with Lindsay, and Nael making faces at the little kids. He could see his mum smiling and talking to Aunt Mikaya, and he could see Cameron with his guitar, singing his songs. Damian smiled at his parents and they smiled back. Lindsay motioned for Damian to join them, but he shook his head. He wanted to talk to someone else. Damian walked over to where Cameron was sitting cross-legged on the porch, a paper plate balanced precariously on his knee and a plastic cup sitting next to him. <em>

_"Hey, Damo!" Cameron smiled, waving his plastic fork at Damian as he approached. "Why are you limping?" _

_"I don't know. It just kind of hurts." Damian said as he sat down next to Cameron, his feet dangling off the edge of the porch. _

_"Does it hurt a lot? Are you okay?" Cameron asked worriedly. Damian waved his hand, shaking the pain off. _

_"Yeah, it's nothing. What've you been up to?" Damian asked. _

_"Not much, Damo. Just the usual. I wrote a song! Want to hear it?" Cameron picked up his guitar and started to strum. When he opened his mouth, a beautiful string of Irish melodies came out. Damian raised his eyebrows in surprise. He didn't know Cameron knew any Irish at all. But that was okay, because the song was the most gorgeous thing Damian had ever heard. He stared at Cameron as he continued singing, glasses perched on his nose and a small necklace around his neck. As the song drifted to an end, the crickets started chirping and they were suddenly alone in the yard. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of crickets and grass rustling. _

_"Hey, Cam?" Damian said, his voice breaking through the silence. _

_"Yeah?" Cameron said, turning towards his friend. _

_"I missed you." _

_"I've missed you, too. Where have you been?" _

_"Somewhere bad." _

_"Really? Where?" Cameron asked with a bit of fascination. _

_"I'm not sure, exactly. Just somewhere bad." _

_"I'm glad you got out of there." Cameron said seriously. _

_"Me, too." Damian said just as seriously. _

_"You never stopped trying to escape?"_

_"Nope. I never gave up hope." Damian assured him. Cameron considered Damian's words for a while. _

_"That's good. You should never, ever give up, because I don't know what I would've done if you didn't come back." Cameron said. _

_"Right. But sometimes I didn't know if I could come back." Damian admitted. _

_"What do you mean? You just said you never gave up hope." Cameron said, slightly accusingly. _

_"Yeah, I didn't. But I thought it may be impossible to get out. That there was absolutely no way, even if you had hope." Damian explained. _

_"Well, you did it. It was possible. Nothing is impossible. You just have to stay strong until you find the way." Cameron said. _

_"Right. Everything is possible. I just had to find a way." Damian agreed. _

_"So how did you get out?" _

_"I don't know. I think someone came and got me." _

_"Really? Who?" Cameron asked curiously. _

_"I'm not sure... I mean, I think I know, but that doesn't make sense..." Damian said slowly. _

_"Who do you think it was?" Cameron said. _

_"Well, I'm pretty sure it was you, Cam." Damian said. _

_"Impossible! I would've remembered a thing like that!" Cameron scoffed. _

_"Well, I don't know. I thought we decided that nothing's impossible." Damian reminded Cameron. _

_"Oh yeah. Yeah... maybe I did rescue you..." Cameron frowned slightly at the moon. _

_"I think you did. They had strong hands, like yours." Damian said. _

_"I might be strong. But so are you. Maybe you rescued yourself." Cameron told Damian. _

_"Yeah. Maybe." _

_They talked for the rest of the night, sitting on the porch, watching the moon travel across the sky. Just before the sun rose, Cameron stood up. _

_"I have to leave now." Cameron told Damian. _

_"Really? Are you sure?" Damian whined. _

_"Sorry, Damo. I'll call you later, okay?" Cameron said. _

_"I don't want you to go." Damian said. Cameron hugged Damian tightly, and then pulled back. _

_"Close your eyes, Damian." he said. Damian hesitated. "Please, Damo? Close your eyes. I'll be back." Damian finally sighed and closed his eyes. He felt Cameron's hand resting on his shoulder. _

_"I'll be back." he said before he left. "I'll be back." _

* * *

><p><em>Damian slowly opened his eyes to the sight of the attic. The pain in his leg was back and Cameron was gone, and ray of sunlight had replaced the beam of moonlight shining through the window. He sighed, and dragged himself up to his hands and knees, slowly crawling across the floor and into the opposite corner where his 'bed' was. Damian felt different. Heavier yet lighter than he had before. His head seemed to hurt less and he could feel energy ever so slowly seep back into his tired limbs as he cleaned the cuts on his leg as best he could with a little of his precious water and the tip of his bloodstained shirt. <em>

Cameron said he would be back_, Damian reassured himself as he finished cleaning his wounds. _He'll be back_. Damian wrapped his leg up with his jacket- the one he had been wearing the day he was taken, and one of the only things he owned anymore. He settled down on the floor, trying to ignore the flashes of pain in his leg. _You can't give up hope, Damian. _ he thought, _Cameron told you to never, ever give up hope. The real Cameron would tell you that, too, and you know it. Can't give up, because you might get out of here tomorrow. You never know_. _

_And everyday after that, Damian would always tell himself that. _

_Don't give up. _

_Maybe tomorrow. _

_You never know..._

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><p><strong>AN: So, did you follow the whole dream inside a memory concept? I hope so! (It's sort of like Inception! Maybe I should write a dream inside a memory inside a memory inside a dream :P) <strong>

**Now, I hope you were moderately satisfied with this chapter, because it was pretty hard for me to write. I've been working on it for about three weeks now... yeah. Except for the memory sequence. That was written and edited in about two hours :P However, if you didn't like this chapter, that's okay, because it was slightly uneventful. But the next chapter...  
><strong>

**Next chapter, Damian has a major break down about something. *lovetheangst* On the bright side, this is followed by him seeing his parents on Skype, and they bring some pretty good news :) **

**Please review! I love them reviews! Seriously, even a smiley face or a frowny face will do! **_  
><em>


	5. Chapter 5: My Angel

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters. Anything that happens to them in the story is a total work of FICTION! I am not affiliated with Glee or The Glee Project, and I am not making money off of this story!**

After talking for a couple more minutes, Cameron brought his laptop out of his backpack and opened it up on Damian's bed, right next to his leg. Cameron crouched down and opened his Skype up.

"So... are you ready to see your parents again? They said anytime in the next three hours" Cameron said.

Damian had talked to his parents on the phone over the past couple weeks, but he hadn't had the opportunity to see them face to face yet - his parents didn't get many opportunities to access a computer. Damian had been anticipating this moment for days now- to be able to look his parents in the eyes again, because hearing their voices over the phone wasn't the same thing as seeing their image. Of course, it wouldn't be as great as seeing them in person, but Skype would have to do. Cameron adjusted the camera, and opened his Skype account. A window popped up with the images from the camera. Cameron brushed his hands off and sat down to wait, all ready and set up for the anticipated call.

Damian suddenly frowned as he caught sight of his image on the screen. He shifted himself carefully on the bed and brushed his hair out of his face.

"I didn't realize I looked this bad." Damian commented softly. He stared at the screen, watching his image move painfully. Cameron realized that this may be the first time Damian had seen his reflection after he had been rescued. After all, there were no mirrors in the room and the window was at such an angle that from the bed, Damian couldn't see his reflection. Apprehensively, Cameron watched as Damian brought his hand up to his face, touching the bruises and scars that masked his features. The purple-green bruise on his left temple and the huge red welt on his cheekbone. The small red scar on his neck and the burn marks on his cheeks. The yellowing bruises around his neck and the side of his face. Damian's hand went slack and he stared at the screen with blank, hard eyes.

"I look...like..." he turned to Cameron, who studied Damian uneasily.

"I look so... I look..." Damian tried again, looking back at the screen. Agitated, he twitched and clenched his right fist.

"Damian." Cameron's eyes widened in worry. He needed to calm Damian down as soon as he could, but he didn't know what to say. "Damian... you feeling alright?" Cameron asked lamely.

"No! I'm not! I'm a monster! A hideous, ugly, injured, bruised, monster!" Damian burst out, hands trembling, right hand still clenched in a tight fist.

"No, Damian! You aren't a monster. When I look at you, all I can see is the Damian Joseph McGinty Jr. we love so much." Cameron tried to soothe him.

"Don't...don't lie to me! Look at my face. Look at these scars." Damian started to raise his voice as loud as he could (which wasn't that loud) "They're never going away! EVER!" Damian lay back down on the bed, staring up at the tiled ceiling. He reached up and touched the scar on his neck.

"I thought I was going to die in that attic..." he said softly. "I really, really thought I would die, and it was a scary though, because that would mean I would never see Mum or Dad or you again. I thought I was going to be tortured until I was too weak to take it any longer, until I was too broken to be put back together again. But I was rescued! When I first saw the police officer break into the attic, I thought I had made it. I thought I wouldn't have to fight anymore, that I had outlived the nightmare... I thought I was finally escaping the daily torment and I could forget about what happened. Go back to living life the way I used to. How delusional of me." Damian spat out.

"Because look at me now! I'm stuck in this stupid hospital confined in a bed, hooked up to IVs twenty four-seven and therapy sessions with this random old guy. I can't eat or talk or move like I could before, because I'm still banged up and sick. Oh, and guess what?" Damian said with mock surprise. Cameron winced at the spiteful look on his best friend's face.

"Guess what? When I finally get out of this stinking place, I'm still going to be a ruin. I'm still going to be this broken mess of Damian, because 'all the king's horses and all the king's men can't put me back together again'" Damian said with absolute poison.

"How will I ever be able to forget what happened to me? Can you see me? Can you see how I look? Can you see the bruises and the scars? Can you see the way I move? You see this?" Damian said breathlessly, pointing the bandages that covered his shoulder.

"Burn marks under there, Cameron. He light me on fire. He freaking took a lighter and light me on fire. Every time I see my shoulder, I'm going to remember that. I'm going to remember the pain, the scorching pain. And the weakness a-and, and the shame it made me feel. And this one?" Damian pointed to a yellowing bruise on his arm.

"He threw me against the wall. Seventeen times. Seventeen times. As hard as he could, like I was just a toy you can throw against the wall when you are mad. And it hurt. Hurt like hell." Damian pointed to multiple other bruises and scars.

"I'm green, purple, blue, yellow, read, black... I'm a freak'n rainbow of painful memories. I'm never going to be able to pass a mirror or a window or a puddle or have my picture taken without having to see those memories again. Never going to be able to shower without seeing the scars and remembering the hell I lived through. Hell, Cam. Absolute hell I went through, and it will haunt me for the rest of my life. People will point or whisper about me when I go back home. They'll think I'm a freak when I won't get into their care just because it's green but I can't tell them why. They'll say 'look, it's that Irish weirdo that disappeared for a year and came back looking like a paranoid freak.' I can never go back to my normal life, and I can never forget about this. I am cursed for life."

Completely exhausted by the rant, he closed his eyes.

"Damian?" Cameron said. "Listen to me." he paused and then leaned over to rest his elbows on the edge of the bed. Damian rolled over away from Cameron, still breathing heavily.

"Damian..." he started.

"I'm not Damian any more, Cam. I don't look like him, and I certainly don't feel like Damian anymore. I haven't for a long time."

"You just aren't looking close enough, to see him, but I see Damian in you everyday. He may be injured, but you know what? He'll come back, as good as ever. And the bruises and burns will heal, and the painful memories will heal, too. Very slowly, but they will heal. They won't disappear like the bruises will, but the pain will dull, and the good will brighten. I know it, Damian. You have always been a fighter." Cameron whispered. He stood up and set the laptop on the table next to Damian.

"Yeah, right." Damian scoffed. "What do you know. Stop trying to make me feel better." Cameron's eyes narrowed and he clenched his teeth. Abruptly, he stood up and stomped over to the other side of the bed to look Damian in the eye.

"Damian. You have to realize that you will never forget. It will be impossible for you to forget what happened. Impssible." Cameron said sharply at Damian, shaking him slightly. Damian unclenched his fists and the hardened look in his eyes broke and melted into a look of devastation.

Cameron's expression softened a little bit before he continued. "The memories will stay with you, but you know what? You can learn how to cope and deal with the memories, and you will be able to live with it. Someday, you'll be able to do that on your own, but right now... You are too proud, Damo, and you want to fight this on your own. But you need help. You need Lindsay, you need your parents. You need me."

Damian didn't respond, just lay on the bed in silence. Cameron watched the steady rise and fall of Damian's chest, and the fluttering of his eyelashes when he blinked.

"Damian, please. I want to help you, I really do. I want you to trust me to support you through this. I'll try my very, very best I can to help you, but I can't if you don't open up to me. Please, Damian." Cameron pleaded, squeezing Damian's hand lightly.

"Damn it, Cameron." Damian said quietly. "I'll try. But it won't be easy."

Cameron smiled sadly at the younger boy. "I know, Damian. But it's for the best, it really is, Damian."

_Why do you have to be so good? Why do you have to care about me so much? It's makes me feel terribly guilty about pretty much ruining this year for you. But the worst part is that I have to live with that guilt, I can't push you away, because everything you say is true. I do need you, more than you ever know. I need you to tell me all that crap about me being strong and brave and learning to cope. I need you to tell me that you will help me, and I need you to tell me I am getting better. I do need you to help me through this. Damn. I am a needy, injured, little puppy. _

Damian watched Cameron out of the corner of his eye. He was crouching next to the bed, rocking back and forth slightly on his feet. His face was highlighted by the light coming out from the window and his grey blue eyes sparkled.

_And Cameron is like... my guardian angel. He's always there for me. He's got my back. It kind of sucks that Cameron is always right about things. At least, he's always right about things that have to do with emotions and morals and people and crap. Cameron stupidly-generous-and-caring Mitchell. Ever since I first met you, you were spouting inspirational quotes and insightful advice. Always knows the best. Cameron freaking-angel Mitchell. _

Damian sighed and closed his eyes, sinking back into the pillows.

_But still. I know I promised, and I know you mean best, Cameron, but I can't tell you everything. If I did, you would probably worry yourself too much about me, and I don't want that. You need to focus on school, talk to your other friends for a change, take care of yourself, take a break from me. Everyone else is smart enough to think about themselves, make sure that they are supported, but not you. You're losing out, hanging around this hospital with an broken nineteen year old. I'm sorry, but there's no way in the world that I'm going to let you know everything. It's for your own good- I'm trying to help you out the best I can, here. _

Damian opened his eyes a crack to peek at Cameron, still crouching next to his bed, chin rested on his knees. Cameron caught his eye and gave one of his little yet cheesy smiles. Damian returned the smile slowly, nodding slightly.

* * *

><p>Damian watched the second hand creep around the clock, mesmerized by the steady movement and the comforting regularity. it was about 7:00; Damian's parents had promised to call before 7:30. Damian felt much calmer than he had a couple hours ago. The laptop sat on the side table waiting for the call to come in. Cameron sat cross legged on the very edge of Damian's bed, and was in the middle of telling him stories about life in Texas when a soft ringing sound came from Cameron's laptop. In seconds, Cameron leaped off the bed and grabbed his laptop off of the side table and placed it on Damian's lap.<p>

"Are you sure you can... you know?" Cameron said.

"See myself and not freak out? Yeah, I can handle it. Hurry up. I want to see my parents!" Damian snapped. Cameron nodded and reached over, moved the mouse and clicked Answer Call. The screen went black for a couple seconds before clearing up to show an image of Damian's parents. Damian choked back a cry of delight. 

* * *

><p>"Yeah, Mum! Lindsay told me!" Damian said. Cameron watched Damian as he talked with his parents. He looked so happy, even almost disbelieving, like he couldn't comprehend that he was seeing his parents again. They had been talking for almost half an hour. Nurses had come in and come out, some of them even talking briefly with his parents. The atmosphere in the room was so cheerful and optimistic, Cameron could barely sit still.<p>

"Cameron?" Cameron heard Mr. McGinty say from the laptop. "I would like to talk to you and Damian, please." Cameron jumped. He hadn't known Mr. McGinty knew Cameron was in the room with Damian. Nonetheless, Cameron sat down on the edge of Damian's bed, and leaned in to see the monitor.

"Hello, Mr. McGinty. Hello, Mrs. McGinty." he said.

"Hello, Cameron." Mrs. McGinty said. "We have something important to tell the two of you." Cameron's hand subconciously made its way to Damian's shoulder.

"We were thinking about where Damian should stay after he is discharged from the hosptial. We were thinking either New hampshire or New York, of course, but Dr. Jake thought of another solution that would be most beneficial to Damian, emotionally and physically. I presonaly think this plan is horrible and it will not be good for either you or Damian, but Dr. Jake insisted. We know that you, Cameron, will have to take on some extra responsibility and stress, and we will be most understanding if you don't consent to this plan." Mrs. McGinty said. "But if you do agree- and remember what you will have to sacrifice with this plan, Cameron- but if you agree, we were considering on letting Damian stay with you after he is released." Cameron eyes widened.

"Really?" he squeaked.

"Really," Mr. McGinty said. "Honey, we realize this is a huge thing to ask you, and we aren't really good with the plan ourselves-"

"Yes!" Cameron burst out, "of course he can stay with me!" Mr. and Mrs. McGinty chuckled.

"Dr. Jake told us you would react like that." Mrs. McGinty said, "but Cameron, do you truly understand what this means? It means a lot of responsibility and commitment. It will be frustrating at times, and you will lose sleep and valuable time. You might be set back in schooling and it will be tiring having a job at the same time. You will have to support Damian through his panic attacks alone and you will need to take him to therapy and check-ups often-"

"I don't care. I'm going to lose sleep and time either way, and I already help him with his panic attacks and stuff." Cameron insisted.

"But Cameron, dear..." Mrs. McGinty started. The conversation dragged on, Cameron and Mr. and Mrs. McGinty discussing the affects of this plan, but Cameron insisted that he would be okay with having Damian at his house.

"Why don't we ask Damian, Mr. McGinty?" Cameron finally said, snapping Damian out of his daze. "What do you want, Damian?" he asked. Damian grasped Cameron's hand.

"Mum, Dad, I would really like to stay with Cameron, especially if Cameron is okay with it and Dr. Jake suggested it. I trust both of them." Damian said sincerely. Damian's parents leaned back and acquiesced.

"We would pay for expenses, of course" Damian's mother said.

"Thank you!" Cameron exclaimed before enveloping Damian in a hug, laughing into his shoulder. Damian grinned. He wasn't going to have to go to back to New York, or face his old buddies in New Hampshire yet. No awkward situations or avoiding people now that he was going to live with Cameron. Damian felt a small weight lift off of his shoulder knowing that after he was released from the hospital, a safe place was waiting for him. He sat on the bed, still leaning against Cameron, zoning out of the conversation as his parents discussed the details with Cameron. The dopey smile on his face didn't fade until after he said good bye to his parents, tears in their eyes. Cameron talked excitedly to Damian for another half hour before leaving for the night.

* * *

><p>Damian was still smiling slightly when 'his' nurse, April, came in to check on him. Damian had gotten to know Nurse April pretty well over the past weeks. She was his favourite nurse; she had a sort of sassy attitude that covered up a very caring and smart interior. Damian turned over in his bed to watch Nurse April bustle around the small room, checking his IV and bandages.<p>

"So, Damian McGinty, you're arm is healing very fast. I can probably take the dressings off next week. And that bone bruise is also healing better than we predicted it too. You're body is way stronger than we thought when we dragged you into this room looking like a mummy on life support." Nurse April said affectionately, pushing the cart toward the door. Damian smirked.

Nurse April turned before she left. "You need anything, Damian McGinty?" Damian nodded.

"Can you pass me that blue notebook?" he asked, pointing to a notebook on the table on the other side of the room.

"Sure thing!" Nurse April said, tossing the notebook onto Damian's lap. "See you!"

Damian gingerly opened the blue notebook, skimming over the last entries with narrowed eyes, not really registering the meaning of his words.

Single words scrawled across a whole page in dark letters like _ruined_, _useless, weak, __used... _

The small strings of words like _ black and blue_, _scars are deeper than they think, my shoulder feels like it's on fire again..._

A couple of pages with small paragraphs written in light scratches on the paper.

_The lights are so bright._  
><em>I wake up with the lights in my eyes<br>The lights are too bright  
>If I hide my head under the pillow<br>I can block the lights out.  
>I dislike the smell of the pillow<br>But I dislike the lights more. _

Damian shrugged and flipped to a new page,bringing the pencil down on the page. He wrote a few lines, then closed the book and set it on the table next to him before going asleep.

_March_  
><em>I saw my parents. They looked happy and healthy. <em>

_(I look like death) _

_Cameron was so supportive. _

_(I'm a sloppy mess) _

_The doctors said I'm recovering much, much faster than they predicted I would _

_(I feel like crap) _

_My parents said I could live with Cameron when I get out of here! I'm going to be living with my angel. _

_(I'm actually genuinely happy right now)_

* * *

><p><em><em>**An: So... that was a hard chapter to write. Just because it's almost Christmas and I'm finding it hard to write angst :P I reworked this chapter like crazy, rewritting Damian's first face-to-face converdation with his parents a million times before I chopped it out completely. Sorry if it seems like I didn't address the conversation enough, but it was too hard to write the happiness, it was very awkward!**

**As for the McGintys agreeing to Damian staying with Cameron... kind of unrealistic, but I figure Dr. Jake knows what he's doing! **

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are always welcome. I think next chapter will be easier to write once the joy of the holidays has worn off and I'm drowning in homework!  
><strong>


	6. Author's Note

Hello. Long time, no see. To start off, I would like to apologize for not publishing any chapters during the past months. During the Christmas break, I wasn't feeling in a very angsty mood, so I put this story on hold. I fully intended to continue writing in the New Year, and I wrote a couple drafts of the next chapter (all of which are not going to be published because they are dry and dull chapters that make absolutely no sense). I decided to work on another project and put this one aside for a week or so.

However, in that time, one of my close friends went missing and I have to tell you that this story is simply too painful to continue writing. I regret to announce that I will not continue working on this story - unless I recover emotionally. I apologize sincerely and I hope you enjoyed the chapters I have already written.

I have a bit of good news for my readers, however. I have decided to publish the chapter with the odd chapters and flashbacks I have already written. I am not editing them, however, so they may be choppy or messy.

If you would like to know what would've happened to Damian and Cameron in the rest of the story, I would be happy to share with you my pretty detailed outline of the story, just pm me. If you would like to 'adopt' this story and continue writing it, I am willing to hand you the reins. I can give you the outline, or you may take this story-line and make it your own.

Thank you to the people who reviewed and/or read this story. It means so much to me and I feel this story has helped develop my writing skills.

I appreciate your understanding,  
>Peach<p> 


	7. Epilogue

Extra Chapters. I'm not sure if anyone will be interested, as they will not be in context with the story anymore, but this is my way of apologizing for not continuing the story, I suppose.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER X: Cam invites Damian with him to visit his grandparents in Canada. Damian has been rather depressedquiet after being released from the hospital the second time.

Damian and Cameron walked out of the airport, pulling their suitcases behind them. Cameron's breath hitched as the cold air hit them; he was still dressed for a Northern Texas January. He pulled his jacket around his hands as he and Damian climbed into the taxi.

"Cam, you okay?" Damian asked, looking at his tembling friend.

"Yeah, I'm fine. D-don't worry about it." Cameron said. "I just forgot how much colder it is here."

"It's about minus 23 degrees right now," the taxi driver said. Damian looked out the window thoughtfully.

"Minus 23? Didn't seem that cold." Damian mused.

"C-canada uses metric system, Damo." Cameron reminded him.

"Oh, right! I wonder if I remember this correctly from Ireland... about minus ten degrees Ferenheit?" Damian guessed.

"I'm not sure. Maybe." Cameron said. "I remember one winter, I was in the backyard..." Cameron started telling a story, but Damian didn't quite hear. He was transfixed by the city lights. Not as bright as they were in New York or Fort Worth, but still shining against the black sky. Damian could see the freeway stretched out for a long time in both directions and a little moving trail of tiny lights on the road ahead. The constant yet shifting movement drew him in and before he knew it, his eyes closed and he fell to sleep, head pressed uncomfortably against the cold window. Cameron noticed and his story trailed off, smiling fondly at his best friend. He reached out and gently pulled Damian off the window and onto his lap, slowly stroking his hair comfortingly and listening to the quiet winds blowing outside.

The taxi soon pulled up to Cameron's grandparent's house, and Mr. Wright and Mrs. Wright came out to meet Cameron.

"Hey, Cam!" Mr. Wright said, pulling Cameron into a hug. Cameron reached down to hug his grandfather- he was a lot shorter than Cameron, and so was his grandmother and his parents- they had no idea where Cameron got his tall traits from!

"Hello, Pops!" Cameron said cheerfully. "Hello, Grams." he said smiling, reaching out to hug his grandmother as well. "Sorry, Damian's asleep, and I don't want to wake him..." The Wrights understood immediately and took both suitcases into the house, letting Cameron carry the sleeping Damian into the house. Mr. and Mrs. Wright led Cameron to the guest room- as if he didn't know where it was- and left Cameron alone to settle down. He laid Damian down on the neatly made bed and pulled his socks off before pulling the blankets over his body. Cameron then left the room to change and clean up before going to the living room where his grandparents were watching TV. For the next half hour, they talked quietly, catching up as Damian slept.

Later, Cameron said good night to his grandparents and crept back into the guest room. After unpacking slightly, he took a shower and got ready for bed.

Damian and Cameron came down the hall with a smile on his face. The smell of coffee wafted around the house from the bustling kitchen. Mrs. Wright was sitting at the kitchen table, a stack of envelopes were sitting in front of her. Mr. Wright was standing at the stove, tending to pancakes.

"Morning, Grams. Morning, Pops!" Cameron danced around the kitchen, kissing each one on the cheek.

"Morning, Cam. Good morning, Damian." Mr. Wright said cheerfully.

"Mornin', Mr. Wright and Mrs. Wright." Damian greeted.

"Oh, there will be no Mr. and Mrs. Wright, dear. Feel free to call us Sam and Yvonne." Mrs. Wright told Damian.

"All righ', thank you." Damian said, slightly awkwardly. "Can I help you with those envelopes?"

While Damian sat down with Mrs. Wright, Cameron joined his grandfather at the stove and before long, the four sat down at table and enjoyed a breakfast.

"So, honey, how are you liking Canada so far, hm?" Mrs. Wright asked after they had eaten.

"It's alright so far, m'am. Right colder than New York, but only a little colder than Ireland." Damian replied. Cameron snorted softly and shivered involuntarily. Mrs. Wright smiled affectionately at her grandson.

"Yes, Robert has never coped well with cold temperatures."

"Be glad you don't visit during January or February, Cameron. It gets to be lower than minus forty degrees with windchill!" Mr. Wright said. Cameron winced as the others chuckled.

"But it really is beautiful here. From what I've seen out the window this morning and last night, at least." Damian told Mrs. Wright.

"Maybe Robert can show you around the neighbourhood, Damian." Mrs. Wright suggested. Damian shrugged.

"It's pretty cold outside, I wouldn't want to make you show me around while you stand there freezing to death, Cam." Damian told Cameron. Cameron shook his head.

"No, I want to, Damian." Cameron reassured his friend. "I was thinking, Grams, Pop, can I take Damian to Fisher's park?"

"Fisher's?" Mr. Wright looked surprised. "Why, Cam. I'm surprised you even remember that place." Turning to Damian, he added, "the one time I took him when he was nine, he got so cold we left about ten minutes after we got there, and it was only minus fifteen degrees out!"

Damian laughed, but then looked seriously at Cameron. "You sure, Cam? I think it's even colder today."

"Yes, I definitely want you to see this place, Damian." Cameron said stubbornly.

"Alright then, I'm in. Sounds great." Damian said sincerely. Breakfast concluded and after helping with dishes, Cameron and Damian headed up to the guest room to prepare for the cold weather. Five minutes later, Damian looked up to see Cameron was still piling layers upon layers.

"Are you sure you're good with the cold, Cam?" Damian asked once again.

"Yes! I _want _ you to see this." Cam insisted, pulling his mitts on.

"Well, I want _you _to see _this!_" Damian chuckled. "You look like a multi-cloured marshmallow." Cameron laughed too.

"Well, at least I'll be warm." he said as they paraded down the hall. After Mr. Wright handed the car keys to Cameron, they climbed into the car, heat turned up all the way.

"So, what's so special about this park, Cam?" Damian asked.

"I'm not sure. It just feels... right to take you there. It's a kind of place you'd like." Cameron said slowly. "Just wait and see, I guess."

About twenty minutes later, Cameron parked the car and climbed out of the car.

"It's so cold." Cameron muttered. "But not too cold!" he added quickly as Damian opened his mouth in protest.

The pair walked through the snow quietly, leaving a trail of deep footprints behind them. Cameron helped Damian up the edge of hill slowly, taking a break once in a while to let Damian catch his breath before continuing on. Finally, they reached the top of the hill. Cameron helped Damian sit down on a wooden bench under a tree, where the snow was less deep. Finally, Cameron turned Damian's gaze out over the hill and smiled as Damian opened his eyes in wonder.

The white, snowy world spread out around the hill, sparkling in the sunlight. The flat Saskatchewan landscape was dotted with snow-capped buildings and houses. The frozen Saskatchewan river meandered through the land, brown and white birds dotting the blueish ice. Frosted trees lined farms on the horizon, and the brown-white roads carved through the prairie. The city looked fresh and new, sitting on the banks of the river. Damian took a deep breath.

"Wow..." he murmured. Cameron smiled.

"You showed me the beautiful Irish meadows when I came to visit, I'm kind of returning the favour." he smiled. "Now, look over at the sun," Cameron encouraged, "be careful."

Damian looked over, confused. He was sure Cameron didn't want his eyes to burn up, but what was so special about the sun? Damian got his answer when his gaze landed on the sky. Two long, beautiful rainbows encased the sun on either side, almost making a colourful ring around the star.

"A sundog." Cameron whispered. "They only happen when it's really cold. They are fairly common here, but I've never seen one in America. Did you see them in Ireland?"

"My mum told me of them. But where I lived, it almost never happens. It's beautiful." Damian whispered back. Cameron leaned back on the bench and watched Damian gaze at the landscape. A flock of birds fluttered through the air, and a soft wind blew across the surface of the ground, creating little ripples and snow dunes across the hill. Cameron shivered and Damian leaned on his shoulder.

"Cameron." Damian said breathlessly. "Thank you." It was perfect. Seeing that great expanse of clear, untouched, pure white snow spread out around the two of them, it represented something important to Damian. Seeing how much of the world is untouched and natural, even now, when the days seemed bleak. Not only that, it meant Cameron's loyalty. He knew what would make Damian feel better and worked to bring him here, just for a couple minutes, just for Damian. Suddenly, Damian felt overwhelmed with emotion he hadn't felt so strongly for a long time- love. Damian turned around and wrapped his arms around Cameron in an awkward hug.

"Thank you." he murmured into Cameron's scarf, "thank you."

CHAPTER: SECOND TO LAST- Damian's flashback (why he doesn't cry anymore)

_The sun was setting when he barged through the door in an awful mood. Snarling and glaring at Damian he aimed a kicked at his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Damian knew that this was not a good day. Two, three, four, five kicks were aimed at his side, leaving Damian with a patch of throbbing, tender skin that was sure to become a cruise. As he lay on the ground, trying to regain his breath, he felt the strong, brutal hands reach out and grab his shoulders, pulling Damian up and against the wall. His neck snapped back, the wood creaked as his head made contact with the wall. A sharp pain flew through Damian's skull and down his back, the shock reverberating through his body. Suddenly, he was pulled upwards so that Damian's bare feet dangled two inches off the ground as his attacker held him fast against the wooden wall of the musty attic. Damian's head started to pound as the throbbing increased and the grip on his neck began to tighten. Damian choked, desperately searching for air. Thrashing around, he gagged and wheezed as his head started to feel light and the attic started to spin slightly. The hand around his throat constricted once more before releasing, allowing Damian to crumble to the floor, gasping for air. During this time of vulnerability, a cloth went over his head and a rope went around his wrists and a nail, binding him to the floor. _

_Damian heard the very distinguishable sound a the silver switchblade clicking into place, and braced himself for the pain sure to come. However, the pain didn't come for a whole two minutes. For whole two minutes, Damian was confined to his binds, anticipating pain that just wouldn't present itself. The anticipation drove him to near insanity. _

_Finally, he felt a burning hot blade slowly delve into the sole of his foot, carving a deep cut that welled bright with red blood. _

_A strong hand took hold of Damian's neck and slammed him against the wall. His neck snapped back, the wood creaked as his head made contact with the wall. A sharp pain flew through Damian's skull and down his back. Damian's bare feet dangled two inches off the ground as his attacker held him fast against the wooden wall of the musty attic. Damian's head started to pound as the throbbing increased and the grip on his neck began to tighten. Damian choked, desperately searching for air. A low, maniac threat resounded in Damian's ear. _

_"Ya don' cry! Ya hear me? I won' take none of tha cry'n and sobbin'. Ya never cry in fron' of me. Got it?" Damian tried to nod as the gravelly voice growled in his ear, but the grip around his neck was too strong. _

_The next couple minutes were blurred in Damian's memory. He remembered the glint of the silver knife in the dusty light. _

_He remembered the excruciating pain of the blade slowly cutting into the bottom of his feet. He still remembered about the blood pooling around his feet as his assaulter left the attic. He remembered the shame he felt as he lay in a weakened, whimpering ball on the floor, like an animal. He remembered the way he crawled for a week, trying to ignore the pain that resided in his feet and in his bruised neck. _

_He remembered, and he would remember for the rest of his life, no matter how hard he tried to forget. _

_And no matter how much he tried, Damian couldn't, and wouldn't, forget about the scars that formed train tracks up and down his feet. _

_Damian hadn't cried since that day. _

Still sleeping, Damian moaned and shifted a little, tucking his feet up underneath him.


End file.
